Over the last year, my life has been a whirlwind. My job as a corporate lawyer has been demanding, not to mention the time spent caring for my sick mother. Between the long hours at the office and frequent visits to the hospital, I hardly found time to spend with my husband Jake and our daughter Mia.

My mother’s medical treatments have been costly, compelling me to work even longer hours than usual.

Thankfully, Jake has been incredibly supportive, taking on the household chores, cooking, and helping Mia with her schoolwork.

Most evenings, I would come home late, utterly exhausted and simply looking forward to sleeping.

One night, after tucking Mia into bed, I was tidying up her toys and crayons. That’s when I noticed a drawing hidden underneath the table—a simple, child-like sketch at first glance.

The drawing depicted a family of three. The man was unmistakably Jake, the little girl was Mia, but the woman didn’t look like me. She had long brown hair and wore a blue gown. At the bottom of the drawing were the words, “I can’t wait for you to be my mom,” written in Mia’s familiar handwriting.

I was bewildered. Who was this woman Mia had drawn in my place?

Anxiously waiting for morning, I decided to wake Mia and asked her about the drawing. She opened her sleepy eyes, took the paper from my hands, and clutched it to her chest. “You weren’t supposed to see this, daddy asked me to hide it better,” she said.

Her words stunned me. What had been going on in our home while I was working so hard? Was Jake involved with another woman?

Come morning, I confronted Jake about the mysterious drawing.

“Have you seen this drawing, Jake? Our daughter said you told her to hide it from me. Is there someone else?” I demanded to know.

Jake urged me to calm down, saying it was time I understood what Mia was feeling.

More confused than ever, I followed Jake’s advice and got in the car with him.

He drove us to Mia’s school, where he requested a meeting with her teacher, Claire.

The instant Claire appeared, I realized she was the woman Mia had drawn. Mia was imagining her life with Claire as her mother, a realization that broke my heart.

In the teacher’s office, Claire shared how Mia had expressed sadness, thinking I no longer loved her. She missed spending time with me and sought comfort in her teacher.

“Jake, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. But Jake explained that he had only uncovered Mia’s feelings the previous week when he found the drawing and asked Mia to keep it hidden for fear of hurting my feelings.

Claire clarified that Mia would often stay behind to help tidy up the classroom while waiting for Jake to collect her. During these times, Mia shared her feelings.

Apologetically, Claire confessed she hadn’t wanted to overstep but thought it important Jake knew of Mia’s feelings.

Rather than anger, I felt overwhelmed with guilt for neglecting Mia’s emotional needs. It wasn’t Claire’s or Jake’s fault; they had only tried to help. The blame lay with me.

That evening, I sat with Mia at dinner and shared why my job required so much of my time. I explained how much she means to me and that I love her more than anything.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she threw her arms around my neck. “I love you, mommy,” she whispered, “but I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

Her words pierced my heart, and I knew something had to change. I spoke to my brother and sister, asking for their support in looking after our mother.

From then on, Mia and I made time for weekly “mom and daughter” days, devoted to whatever she wished—sometimes baking cookies, other times strolling through the park.

I’ve realized how much my little girl needs me, and I’m committed to being there for her as much as possible.